Return
by farfetched4
Summary: The Man in the Moon only spoke to him once. Jack, alone for so many years, his questions unanswered, stopped believing in the entity that apparently caused him this neglect.


He spoke as if he believed. Spoke as though he genuinely expected an answer, as though he thought something might have changed. As though he thought he might be in favour, might not be ignored this time, might have someone who cared. As though he had conversations more than once a decade, or less.

As though he wasn't completely alone in the world.

The Man in the Moon only spoke to him once. Simply told him what his name was, leaving him to discover that he had power, what it was, that he was completely, totally, undeniably invisible to every human that had ever existed, did exist and would ever exist. Left him to suffer though more than three hundred years of that neglect.

Maybe it was forgivable. Perhaps he'd done something horrible in his past life that decreed him this torture. But then why would he have powers? He could interact on some level with humans. But not enough to ease the aching pain inside him every time he thought about what his life (or death, really, a cold dark painful unending nearly-death) had become.

And then he saw _them_. Spirits, like him, almost the same, but different somehow – they could talk to the humans. The children flocked around a humanoid rabbit, who carefully handed out eggs, smiling gladly at each one of them, and the children _smiled back_.

His rage was unequalled. Why was this spirit seen and he wasn't? It felt like he was being ripped apart, and then the rabbit merely sneered at him before leaving, leaving him alone again, and it was _unforgivable_. The winds felt his anger, took energy from it, ripped up trees and threw snow down in the worst blizzard he'd ever created, and he took some shameful glee in seeing their faces, morphing to horror as they were buffeted around like flies, as the rabbit's precious _eggs_ were covered in a matter of minutes, fingers and toes of everyone freezing as they fled inside, fled away from the haunting cry of the blizzard, it's fingers grasping at every precipice to try and get in to their domain, _how dare they hide from his pain?_ _How dare they ignore him? How dare they have fun and chat and talk and laugh when he stands in the middle of it all sobbing his wretched heart out?_

He realises his mistake too late. He doesn't like causing them pain. He wants everything to stop, but it's far beyond his control now, covering most of the continent in metres of snow, ice and hail. It's a nightmare. _He just wanted them to smile at him, love him like they loved their families, hold him like the child he was_. He fled, trying to ignore the bodies frozen in expressions of pain, tries to ignore the rabbit's cutting words _you make a mess of everything you're useless you're stupid you're invisible no one will ever believe in you you're a waste of the air you breathe_, tries to pretend it wasn't his fault, tries to pretend he meant it as a joke.

And then, far away from anyone and anything, he has a creeping feeling of needing to apologise to the moon, of all things. He laughs, so bitter it grates against his skin, grazing and cutting as the realisations tumble. There is no Man on the Moon. There is no one left who cares. He doesn't deserve anyone's belief. He must atone for his mistake.

After that, he tries. He attempts to make snow less harsh, a light covering. He tries to keep them happy and cheery, tries to get them to have fun the only ways he knows how, and most of all, he pretends that he is happy enough to smile all the time. The last time he cried, people died, and he cannot let it happen again, so he smiles, grins, laughs with them, (ignores the emptiness) and sometimes, it works. Occasionally, the children laugh and play like they have no concerns, build things out of the snow, and throw balls of it at each other, admire the prettiness of it, get excited when they wake up to see a new covering of it in the morning. Other times, no one does anything, they grumble and sweep it away from their path like dirt in the road, they fail to appreciate why he puts it there, and through it all, he smiles because he can't do anything else. Move elsewhere, try again, until he is too tired to move, and the smile evades his mouth and the memories rise like spectres, _blizzard of '68 deadliest weather ever seen yet wrath of the gods not good enough, Jack_.

He doesn't even realise he's stopped believing.

Gradually he meets the other spirits _Guardians_, but doesn't try, knowing they will have no time for him, they won't see what he truly desires (faith, belief, _love_) and they will either ignore him or have a bad impression.

He still wants someone to see. It comes to a point where he can't even think what he is doing anymore, can't smile any longer, needs something back. He talks to the Moon because no one else even has the illusion of listening, and the Moon is just there and judging him and he cries out to it, fully aware there will be no answer.

Not even minutes later, he is swept up into the Guardians, and he still can't believe. He can't even pretend he isn't angry _three hundred years and this is the answer?_, can't pretend he is completely impartial about their existence _why would he want to sit in a stuffy place and think of new ways to bribe children?_, but can pretend he still believes there's a chance the Moon might answer him _why wasn't he told himself?_. But deep down, he craves the attention, the fact that they are talking to him, interacting, even if there's no trust and no kindness. They were told to make him one of them, so he is a Guardian, but not because they believed in him, so he fails to see why he should give everything up for them.

They offer his memories, and he can't refuse – the burning need to know what he did to deserve three centuries of forced solitude reignites within him, he has to understand.

But things change, slowly, over the few days he battles. He begins fighting for self-defence, to preserve his chance at knowledge, more because he despises Pitch than he fights for the Guardians. _A neutral_, he is deemed, and at the start, it is true. But it morphs over that time. He starts to help Tooth because he wants to, wishes to save Sandy because he cares, feels frustration over the dream spirit's death because he _misses him_, and even starts to see that Bunny is not as bad as he thought. (his _unforgivable_ fades a little at that, not forgiven but overlooked a bit; he can't forgive them for ignoring him for this many years but he can accept the attempt to make it better)

Then Pitch reminds him of his deepest fears. _They're just using his strength in their time of need, they don't truly care, they will abandon him when all this is done, whoever wins and he'll be alone like always_. He doesn't want them to care about him, he _needs_ them to care, he can't return to before; again, he realises his mistake too late. By the time Pitch has manipulated his distraction into what looks like betrayal, Easter has already been ruined, and he almost can't stand their accusing tones, their upset voices and betrayed looks _he didn't do it it wasn't his fault don't leave_, until he has to leave because he knows he's made a mess of it all again. Would it even matter if everything was pitch black? Nothing will change for him, he knows that. He's failed them all, the Guardians, Baby Tooth, himself in a way because he let himself ruin everything.

His memories come back to him like a ray of sun through cold winter mornings, making the dusting of snow over everything glisten, and even though he knows it's melting, it looks pretty and it makes him feel like he's done something right for once. He understands.

He starts believing again.

There is no pretence in his voice when he addresses the Moon, no doubt in his heart as he flies as fast as he can manage towards the North Pole, and then Jamie, because even if they do forget about him again, even if he falls by the wayside once this is finished, he has a chance. A chance to help, a chance to live up to the name he's been given now, a chance to make things better again.

The fight is by no means easy. Several times, he thinks he's lost, many times he doesn't know what to do, how to win, what to think _a non-spirit can see him, he's happier than he ever thought he could be, he has to protect this one damn kid who refuses to give up_ but somehow it all ends in a blur, he stands on the lake where it all started with an entire group of people _who can see him_. Even if it is temporary, he thinks, he will never forget, he will take a hint from Jamie and never give up, continue atoning for his mistakes by bringing joy to the world, whether the world can see him or not.

The Moon simply tells him it is not temporary.

He smiles his sorry, tries not to think about what it means that his inability to believe in the Man in the Moon made communication impossible, _his solitude was just that: his own_, and turns to the Guardians, smiles at the children as he is sworn in, and feels a lightness of heart he's not experienced before, knowing that he will never, ever, let this go. He will bring joy and protect people the best he can, not because he has to punish himself, but because it is his duty and he cannot fail, not now he has people he feels he can trust and who trust _him_, not now he's regained his belief, and for once, he looks forwards to tomorrow without trepidation.

hr

_At the end of the movie, Jack briefly watches the moon and kind of smiles. In my headcanon, that is when the Man in the Moon finally speaks to him again. And then I was thinking, what if the reason the Man in the Moon didn't speak to Jack was because he couldn't? Because if Jack stopped believing in him, he could no longer talk to him. My theory is that Man in the Moon only talks very rarely and time is somewhat immaterial to him, so by the time he was going to talk to Jack, Jack had already stopped believing. _

_I know it's flawed. But the other Guardians can, apparently, communicate with the Man in the Moon, although it is admittedly left quite ambiguous as to how the communication actually happens. Like, they infer that he 'talks' to them, and he must have done to give Jack his name, but when he 'tells' them Jack is the new Guardian, the moon just shines brightly on whatever is being highlighted. I don't know whether he can actually 'speak' as such, or it's a bit like Sandy and he manages to convey a lot through almost nothing. _

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